Sins Of The Mother
by NormanBates
Summary: Before the fruit cellar corpse, mother knew best. Explore what made Norman Bates the man destiny set him up, to be.


Sins Of The Mother:

This fanfiction will revolve around the multi-faceted and terribly complex relationship of Norman and Norma Bates. This is the first ever fanfiction that I've attempted, so please bare with me. All feedback is welcome and encouraged. This fanfiction depicts the adaptations of characters from "Bates Motel". All characters involved belong to Mr. Robert Bloch, c. 1959.

Chapter 1: Birth

Norma Bates held her baby boy in her shaking arms, rocking him gently to the sound of her soothing hums. The rain poured down against the window, cascading down the clear glass in smooth waves. The blonde woman's gaze, was momentarily taken away from her newborn son, to admire the brewing storm outside of the sterile environment of the hospital. It didn't usually rain all that much in Phoenix, Norma thought to herself, raising the tiny boy's hand to her lips, and softly planting a delicate kiss on his pale flesh. Norma was abruptly summoned back to reality when the door of the sterile little room swung open. A short, plump woman with a sickeningly sweet smile and friendly demeanour strolled towards Norma's hospital bed, holding a chart to her well-endowed chest.

"Have you fed your little one yet, Mrs. Bates?"

The nurse wistfully eyed the outside realm beyond the tall panelled windows adjacent to her patient. A single branch moved rhythmically to the silent symphony that the parting skies and thunder, provided.

"Call me Norma, please. I haven't fed him yet, no." Norma swallowed, watching the nurse suspiciously as she witnessed the nurse's odd preoccupation with the weather.

The white figured woman shifted her weight on her small patent white heels, and shot Norma Bates an unnerving look, a bolt of lighting flashing behind the rubenesque nurse and highlighting her small stature. Everything, seemed much more menacing in the dark. The nurse glided out of the clinical room in deafening silence and closed the door behind her; nothing but the continuous rumbles of thunder and a tirade of descending heels clicking against the frigid, cold, tiles, could be heard. Norma's pulse slightly quickened at the sudden shift in mood and the bizarre woman's behaviour.

" _Trust nobody"_

Sam Bates' voice roamed around the young woman's troubled mind, like a spirit, haunting a place of great misery and torment. Sam Bates, was Norma's husband. Husband, abuser, rapist. Those words were all synonymous, in Mrs. Bates' mind. Norma had met Sam when she was 20-years-old in a bar, just outside of town. Norma forced herself to partake in youth-like activities at that tender age, in accordance with the general practices amongst teenagers and young people. She desperately tried to find her place. This, was Norma's greatest downfall. Her willingness to please, belong and seek love was pathological. Norma had no idea what she was getting herself into on the night that she met Sam Bates and unknowingly, sealed her fate.

Sam had at first seemed like a terribly charming gentleman. He lulled Norma in and entrapped her like a Burmese python with a poor, defenceless, mouse. Twisting and suffocating her, until she couldn't breathe. She had become his prey, and had remained so, for the last six torturous years.

The sleeping child in his mother's arms was awoken from his slumber, and began to shrill and holler indiscriminately. Norma sensed the tension in her child's miniature body, when she'd come to the realisation that she'd neglected to name him. Her cerulean orbs fixated on his defenceless and innocent sapphire blue eyes, as he lay outstretched on his mother's lap.

"You're not your father. You will never be like him. You're not his child, you're mine and everything inside of you, is from me. You're not evil, you won't hurt me, will you, Norman?"

The newly named infant grinned at his mother, a sudden serenity, pacifying his incessant wailing and flailing. Maternal instinct possessed Norma Bates' body, as she instinctively reached for her infant, and tentatively lowered her hospital gown, revealing her engorged breasts. Her primal maternal instincts functioning on high, she latched Norman on to her mammaries and held him against her warm, soft, body, nourishing him. A plethora of emotion overtook Norma, as she watched the young boy resting his penny-sized hand against her beating heart. Norman was the only person in existence who relied on Norma for survival and he was the newest in a long line of men who owned her. The only difference being, that Norma would eternally treasure her little miracle. Norman Louis Bates.

The clock struck nine on the white washed wall, the rain, still as consistent and unrelenting as the downpour of a shower head. It had been mere hours since Norma Bates had given birth to her son, and she was ready to go home. Home, to her prison, her cell. Nothing but vacant time and exploitation lay ahead, all at the hands of the man she had uttered "I do" to, six long years ago.

Norma would not wait to be discharged. She would flee under the blanket of protection that the darkness offered and the constant chaos prevalent in the manic hospital, would also provide. The chaos, an adequate distraction from the prying eyes of nurses and orderlies. Escape, was imminent. The woman avoided hospitals and any form of outside intervention like the plague. It meant putting her husband and herself at risk, of discovering the true nature of her marriage and Norma Louise Bates would not lose the only stability she had ever had in her life. Her slender body was a map of unexplored roads and lanes of bruises, healing bones and scars, all of which, told a story that she was unwilling to tell.

The young mother gingerly removed her fragile body from underneath the wad of blankets, covering her bruised legs. Giving her catheter and iv undue attention, as she removed them from her jade coloured veins. She glanced at the cot next to the bed and admired its contents. Norman was dead to the world, his still developing chest, rising and falling with every silent breath. Pleased that her son was currently silent and wouldn't alarm anyone with incessant cries, she carefully stepped down from the bed and dressed in her blue floral dress, and red patent shoes; Discarding the gown on the bed. Dressing in the dark was no easy feat, especially, when one had to remain vigilant.

Norma ever so slowly placed her trembling hands around her sleeping child and held him tightly, against her chest. A tiny blue waffled patterned blanket, encompassing his delicate form. Norman's breaths became increasingly deeper as he inhaled the familiar scent of his mother's tepid body. The scent of lilacs and lavender, emanated from the young blonde. Cautiously, she made her way to the glass panelled door, turning the knob with the pressure and weight of a feather. The door was slightly ajar now, allowing Norma to slip through, fairly unscathed, minus a small cut on her exposed ankle. She was suddenly grateful, that she had entered the hospital empty handed. A bag or even a small jacket, would have made this journey far more difficult that it needed to be.

With Norman in tow, the frightened woman strengthened her hold on her baby boy. She was now the predator and he, was the prey, ensnared in the clutches of the serpent. As Norma approached the largest corridor ahead of her, the noise of complaining patients and the incessant beeping of machines, was audible. The notion that Norma could be recognised and spotted at any second, abolished to the sterile confines of a hospital room indefinitely, triggered her primal instinct to run. And run, she did.

Norma sprinted down the remaining hallways to the emerald glowing exit sign above the automatic doors, fifty metres ahead of her. Young interns and patients, turned their heads to witness the strange events unfolding before them. The walls and ceiling were an eternal distortion of white plaster as Norma approached the exit to the hospital, the exit to her pain. Freedom. Time had seemingly ceased to function at it's usual pace, as she bound towards the exit, each stride feeling like her thighs were being tugged at by demons of the underworld, attempting to drag her back to hell. Norma was momentarily met with the glowing amber eyes of her only visitor and nurse, as she turned her head, metres from the glowing exit. The familiar curvaceous woman's eyes, narrowed in disapproval and judgement. Norma hadn't the luxury of thought right now. Her head turned straight ahead and she lept over the threshold.

The sheer force of the torrential rain rendered Norma gasping for air, as she continued sprinting further away from the hospital. Sub-zero shards of hail slicing her beautiful face, as she ran with the grace of a gazelle. Norman shivered uncontrollably and fussed in his mother's arms, which were now, vices of unparalleled maternal dominance.

It had been twenty five minutes and three miles, since Norma Bates had left the hospital. She had ceased running a mile ago, as the threat of unconsciousness lurked in the immediate background. Her pace was now almost leisurely; as she regained the lost oxygen that had been so pivotal in her getaway. Norma wiped the flow of water out of her eyes, stopping under a colossal elm tree for a brief moment of shelter. Clearing her windscreens of rain, in order to better assess her surroundings. Norma removed her right hand from her stinging eyes, and clasped it to her saturated son. She recognised the neighbourhood and the amber glow of porch-lit driveways. Norma, lived a block away. With one final push, the desperate mother dashed down the street, a trail of smoke almost following her as she landed at her front door with a clash.

The bottle-green wooden door was unlocked. Norma twisted it with her sodden palm, and immediately stepped inside of the warm foyer, sealing the oppressive darkness and gloom, behind her. The television set in the living room, polluted the apparent calm atmosphere of the cosy bungalow, with it's roaring voices, and obnoxious lights. Sam, who was perched on the brown suede couch, was intently focused on a wrestling match. A bottle of Stella Artois, occupied his right hand. Norman, occupied both of Norma's hands and arms. The wife eyed the back of her husband's head, through the archway in the foyer, which led to the living room. Praying, for at least one night free from unfounded criticism, abuse of all manners, and a myriad of unreasonable and irrational demands. Norma knew wholeheartedly, that she expected too much of Sam Bates. She was proven right.

The overweight and cancerous lump named Sam, moseyed over to his adoring wife, and switched off the television. Hurling the remote at the wall behind Norma. She quivered as the intense fear that she'd become accustomed to, paralysed her body. Norman, sobbed in her statuesque arms.

"Where have you been?" Sam asked, his tone resembled more of a statement, than a question.

"At…the hospital, Sam. This is our son. I'd like you to meet Norman." Norma gulped, hoping her fear would abandon its host. Her pregnancy had appeared a blur to Sam.

"Norman? You named him after you? What makes you think you deserve that, you evil bitch? You're damn well nothing, and neither is he! You make my dinner and get out of my sight, he's no son of mine!" Sam's purpled veined face, bulged with unadulterated fury.

"HE IS YOUR SON!" Norma couldn't help it. Her adoration for her boy was incomprehensible. She would not see him hurt, especially, not by his father.

With one swift and unforeseen motion, Sam grabbed his wife by her platinum blonde locks, dragging her down the narrow hallway of the bungalow. Norman whimpered and quaked in his mother's arms, as his father did so. Sam slammed Norma down on the tile floor of the bathroom, her son, still as safely in her arms as she could muster amongst the chaos. Her abuser slammed the door shut, yelling profanities at her and the defenceless child. Norma did what she always did. She attempted to compose herself.

The disturbed and shaken woman rocked her son gently, kissing his forehead, as she sat against the locked bathroom door. In this moment, it became abundantly clear that Norman would be her saviour, protector and reason to survive. He was blameless, innocent and the only benefit of the living hell, she was enduring. Stability, a home and a decent life came at a price. The price, was her sanity.

"It's just you and me, kid. Always." Norma spoke dreamily, her eyes, fading to black.


End file.
